Our Quiet House

Yes. It happened. Our house was quiet while XiaoXiao was awake and in it.

Rewind to the vet visit earlier this week to get Red's sutures removed. Our little boy was finally released from the "cone of shame," as well.

XX asked question after question as she always does. She was not happy when Red was taken from her and wanted to know where he was going. What were they doing?

We have a wonderful vet who took the time to explain that lawyers would not allow it while other animals were present. XX interjected, "You mean Uncle Craig?!" The vet explained it was too dangerous while other animals were being treated, but if she wanted to come back on a day when it was clear, he would take her on a tour.

One thing you learn quickly in homeschooling is to take advantage of such offers.

We went back the next day.

The doc showed XX the exam rooms, the labs, the surgical rooms, the pre/post surgery crates. She asked plenty of questions, but her most pressing was "Where are Red's testicles?"

The answers came in good detail and she was satisfied. I do love when people don't dumb down answers for a child.

When we left, the rest of the staff had put together a goodie bag for her so she could play at home. Everyone came out to say goodbye and tell her she was welcome anytime.

And here is where the quiet part comes in:

At home, XX opened her bag from the clinic and played.

And played. And played some more. All in quiet. She gave her patients some anaesthesia so that they would sleep and then she asked that everyone be quiet while she treated them. They were given shots and nasal sprays, bandaged up, kissed and set into the waiting area for their families to pick them up.

Thank you, Dr. S!

Chinese School

Two simple words that trigger the gag reflex in most ABCs (American-born Chinese). I haven't yet met anyone who has good memories of being forced to go either after school, usually Fridays, or Saturday mornings. The language is neither easy to hear or listen to for Western-raised ears, and at an age when kids just want to fit in, learning Chinese just exaggerates and exacerbates the differences in a mostly white community.

But times change. Mandarin is "the" language to know. It is popping up everywhere from public schools to the most exclusive private institutions. It's "cool," and Chinese heritage or not, knowing how to speak equals future success to many people.

XiaoXiao doesn't know about all this though. She adorns herself with her Chinese-ness. It is her glory. She loves all things Chinese and looked forward to Chinese school. I suspect it was as much about staying up late and the fact there would be other kids there, but we decided to go with those wishes.

School is on Friday nights, from 7-9 pm. Way past bedtime, and certainly not the best block of time for learning for anyone, especially a five year old.

The classes are held at a high school just down the street. XX asked hopefully if it meant she was now in high school.

There was some question about whether she should be in the class with kids from Chinese-speaking homes or in the Chinese Second Language class. Then someone asked if we wanted to go see the classroom. XX, never afraid to voice her opinion, happily called out, "No! I don't want to go! I want to play!" In Chinese.

So they took her to the "regular" class.

The teacher appeared to speak no English and the other mothers all sat in the back gossiping away in Mandarin. The kids, with one semester behind them, sat at desks facing the teacher with their workbooks and flashcards. XiaoXiao seemed to be at a disadvantage from the start here.

At seven on the dot, a man actually walked through the rooms ringing a bell at which point the teacher clapped her hands to start. "Yī, èr, sān!!!" and she produced flashcards for the kids to read. It looked like a nightmare I have: Chinese school.

No one did anything, no one said a word. No one except XiaoXiao. She called out the first three cards before anyone else figured out what to do or recognized one of the characters. In total, she didn't know as much as everyone else did, but she knew a great deal and gamely called out as much as she could, copying when she didn't. I am ever surprised she knows as much reading as she does and always adore her enthusiastic spirit.

She did get very tired around 7:30, despite a good afternoon nap, but luckily, there was singing not long after and then a break at 8 along with a lollipop from the teacher. The sugar kept her going. She never hesitated throughout the class, but jumped up to learn every song and dance, play every game. She promptly sat to drill flashcards between activities, over and over and over. She sat in the front and paid close attention. When she was called on to read the new song, she did so.

There is no stronger magic than a child's ability to learn coupled with the lack of fear. Anything becomes possible.

XX is the only child who comes from a non-Mandarin speaking home, so it really was something for her to jump in so wholeheartedly. Not unusual for her, but nonetheless, completely admirable. Her tutor thought there would be no problem, and confided that she has never had a student who learned so fast or retained so much. Still, I had my doubts. I've seen lots of glitches in both areas. "Did you understand what I meant when I said, 'Use two hands or you might spill your milk?'" or "How many times have I said if you don't put your shoes away, Red would take them?"

But Heng was right. The teacher said afterwards that there would be no problem with XX staying in the class.

The other mothers pushed the one with the best English to ask me about XX. They told me XX had very good comprehension ("unlike her mother" was unspoken, but I heard it loud and clear). They also wondered how old she was as she was a good head shorter than everyone else. It turns out she is a year or two younger than the rest in the group though it is the beginning/kindergarten class. It didn't bother her. She worked harder, called out louder.

It was tiring, I could tell. And if she was exhausted from concentrating, I was triply so. The other moms quietly chatted or loudly pushed their kids to listen and speak up while tapping their phones or iPads; I never opened my mouth or closed my eyes for fear of missing a gesture, a nuance. I probably held my breath half the time.

When we walked out Friday night, I had a funny flashback: I had taken Chinese classes in the same building in a room across the hall. The only thing I remembered was how much I disliked it and by association, much about being Chinese. Not one word did I carry from those long ago days. I still don't know much, but I understood enough to follow the class. I can finally hear words, make connections. It's not a lot, but what little Mandarin I own is wholly because of my love for XX and the desire to help her get what she wants. In embracing her, I have come to embrace my own heritage.

Definitely a good reminder of that most Western of parenting mantras: Love will get you farther than force.

Amazing what you can learn ... in Chinese school.

Immeasurable

John and I constantly note how much taller and heavier XiaoXiao has gotten. And she has.

But we also see that she's finally able to wear the bathrobe Aunt Suzie gave her ...

... on her first birthday.

At naptime, we notice she's not too much bigger than Red, who looks to be mostly Chihuahua and weighs in at a whopping 21 pounds.

Our Christmas card had her in an outfit that her Aunty Linda sent her for her fourth birthday. There is still plenty of room in that skirt and top. You may see her in it next year as well.

Ah, but the real growth is immeasurable, isn't it?

XX finished her first big sewing project: a pair of pajama pants for Daddy. She wouldn't quit until she was done, though it took all afternoon. I'm sure she didn't know how involved it would be with the laying out of the pattern, checking the grain and even double seaming in some places, but she did a great job.

The next day she wanted to make a "magic blanket" for Red. She was thrilled that he slept under it and drags it around to play with.

Her beloved "dì di" was recently neutered. She told me after we dropped him off, that the best part of that day would be later, when she got to hold him again.

When that hour finally arrived, she was ecstatic, until we started on our drive. Red whimpered piteously. About a minute in, XX told me that hearing him made her feel so sad for him. I have not known her to feel for someone else, so this was huge. The two of them cried together ... the whole ride home.

She's been a responsible "jiě jie," feeding, walking, playing and even cleaning up after Red. She gets frustrated, of course, and there is that lovely sibling rivalry. "It's MY time with Mum, Red. Go away!!!" I do think she enjoys having someone to really boss around. No one takes "being the alpha dog" to heart more than XX.

But I certainly can't complain about the care she dotes upon him, even walking him tonight for over an hour until he finally did his "business" so we all could rest easy tonight. She said, "I'm a tough kid. I'm really tired and I need my sleep, but I can do it." And she did.

In her art class, she's learned about Van Gogh and Rousseau, so we decided to go see an exhibition of post-Impressionist works.

She, of course, always wants to be the main attraction.

She said "Starry Night" was her favorite, but loudly declared, "I don't care for pointillism." Heads turned in the crowded exhibit as she added, "It's not my style."

I rather liked these:

It was a gorgeous day, so we spent some time outside, and then some time tasting chocolates and chocolate sundaes.

We walked along the wharf looking at yummy seafood, and interesting street performers. XX saw some bread loaves that were shaped like animals and wanted one badly. The prices were hilariously exhorbitant, so the next day, she made some herself.

Her breadmaking skills are getting so good, I doubt we'll have to buy bread again. I'm not sure we'll want to!

She surprised me at her violin lesson today by playing for the first time with accompaniment. Her teacher asked her to go much faster than usual as well. There are glitches, but as usual, XX didn't get flustered. She just barreled ahead.

And as always, the fun and the funny are immeasurable!

Friends

Is there anything more important?

Of all shapes, sizes ...

... and species.

... through thick and thin (and crates - perhaps the crate is too large as both my small "kids" fit and play inside) ...

... ah, friends.

.

Holidays

They were too fast, too crazy, and yet perfectly magical.

We went to a Red Egg party for a neighbor. One of XX's friends was there and the two of them had a great time, especially when they found the chocolate cake.

We had another visit from Chrissie and Paul. Too short, but fun nonetheless. A great start to the joy of the season.

XX had fun making and especially wrapping some presents. She's quite generous with the paper and the tape. Our neighbors noted that when they finally managed to get the present opened, it was wrapped again inside.

There has been lots of craziness with Red. As XX says, "I have a buddy. Before, I had to play by myself outside. Now I have Red." The two of them torture Boris as they run past. He barks at them every time they go around.

Inside, Red steals Boris's bones after running manic circles around him.

On rare occasion, the two wild ones share a quiet moment.

While we never got to Santa or baking cookies, we did get to see Nutcracker. XX felt it was necessary as she plans to be in it next year. The idea of auditioning has no meaning yet; she is confident she will be on stage soon.

As such, she enjoyed it, but once the battle was over (she decided she would like to be a mouse next year), she wasn't that thrilled. In her words, "It's just watching, not doing." And because it was a matinee, she fell soundly asleep by the end. Still, the outing itself was exciting.

There was lots of Christmas "singing." XX manages to get the melodies changed, lyrics unrepeatably mangled, and even rhythms, ahem, adjusted. All with fantastic gusto. When she says, "I know this song!" it means she's heard it. The chances of her singing the carol correctly are practically nil, but it is always fun to listen.

Suzie, Dave, Carver and Sebastian came for Christmas Eve dinner. Lots of talking, laughing and eating.

XX felt quite grown up with sparkling apple juice in a champagne flute (Christmas tree painted on her face).

Even though we did not get to Santa, he knew just what to bring the dogs. XX had specific requests for each dog and a small hope for herself (another stuffed elephant).

Watching her as she saw the open fire screen and the ashes Santa left behind on the hearth, was sweet. Her eyes and mouth were open wide as she took in the small mess he made, then saw the note he left behind. She worried when she saw Red's stocking was missing (it had been placed up on the mantel as there wasn't a heavy hook to keep it up when filled), and again when she saw the tips of the carrots she left for Rudolph. She hoped Santa hadn't eaten the carrots by mistake as she was pretty sure Rudolph would eat even the tips. Silly Santa.

XX was relieved to see that Santa took the stocking she left for him. She worried for a few weeks that he would not know it was for him. Inside was a letter, an eraser and a popsicle stick. Why those objects? She likes them and thought he would appreciate them. He did.

She checked out the dogs' treasures before her own, but oohed and ahhed over her new dà xiàng and her penguin pen.

There was the gift of flight from Steph and Brad. XX happily "flew" all around the house...

... and hugged and played and ran.

The week after Christmas was no less fun. There was art camp. Four blissful hours (for Mum) each day of crafts, singing, movement, and fun with friends. XX loved it.

She also worked on her violin. As usual, she's working on being a virtuoso, ending flourish and all.

And in the blink of an eye, it was over.

So we're on to 2011 and the usual craziness.

Happy New Year!